Where the Roads Intersect
by laceefun
Summary: While traveling in Fangorn Forest, Gimli and Legolas get separated. To make things worse, they encounter familiar enemies and suspicious men that claim to be lost.
1. Meetings in Fangorn

**Hello, laceefun here! I'm back with a brand new story. I've missed writing so much and I was so happy when I finally got a writable idea :D**

 **To clear any possible confusions, this story will not have any connections to my previous story 'The Siege of Mirkwood.' So basically, Legolas and Gimli never went to Mirkwood, but were at Minas Tirith with Aragorn. It's much less confusing that way to readers that have not read my other story. Unless I state that it's a sequel or something, most of my stories probably won't be connected to each other.**

 **Well, you've probably noticed, but this time it's not a Thranduil story, but a Legolas and Gimli story! I've always wanted to explore their friendship, and I kind of did a little in 'The Siege of Mirkwood,' but not in great detail. This will hopefully go more in depth. The story will most likely be a short one too. I'm expecting no more than five chapters, but then again, you never know.**

 **Summary: While traveling in Fangorn Forest, Gimli and Legolas get separated. To make things worse, they encounter familiar enemies and suspicious men that claim to be lost.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of The Rings**

 **Maybe rated T for minor violence.**

* * *

 _"You move me, Gimli," said Legolas, "I have never heard you speak like this before. Almost you make me regret that I have not seen these caves. Come! Let us make this bargain – if we both return safe out of the perils that await us, we will journey for a while together. You shall visit Fangorn with me, and then I will come with you to see Helm's Deep."_

 _"That would not be the way of return that I should choose," said Gimli. "But I will endure Fangorn, if you promise to come back to the caves and share their wonder with me."_

 _"You have my promise," said Legolas._

\- _The Two Towers_

 **Chapter 1 – Meetings in Fangorn**

Why was he here? Here amongst animated trees and deadly Orcs? It was the last place Gimli would have found himself after the War of the Ring. Yet, here he was, holding his axe up high and trying to deflect Orc swords and tree branches. _Tree branches_ of  
all things. Here and there, the sounds of cracking trunks and whipping branches assaulted Gimli's ears as trees thrashed about like a child on a tantrum. Most of the Orcs have already fled the scene, and the remaining one in front of him appeared  
panicky as every exit became blocked by flailing trees. Another Orc lay crushed beneath a fallen trunk – the first victim.

As Gimli inched backwards to find a way out of this tree hell, he tripped on a raised root and landed flat on his back, his weapon flying out of his hand. The tree responsible suddenly let out a great groan, and leaned toward the Dwarf. Eyes popping out  
and mouth shaped in a silent 'O', Gimli gave no second thought as he rolled and rolled away from the falling tree. There was an earsplitting crack like lightning and a boom like thunder as the tree became completely uprooted and fell just short of  
Gimli's head. He became buried in the leaves and boughs of his assailant. With his hands protectively held over his head and eyes squeezed shut, he lay still for a moment listening to the chaos outside. He heard shuffling feet, a dull thud, and the  
squeal of an Orc. Well, there goes that one. Thinking it was safer inside where he was, Gimli decided to lay low until the trees calmed down. He never thought that branches and leaves dancing in the wind could sound so deadly.

When he stayed long enough to think that the continuing rustle of leaves was due to the wind, Gimli untangled his arms and carefully lifted his head. His body felt stiff from being so tense for so long. When he was sure he would not be assaulted by any  
more trees or Orcs, he shifted his way out of his hiding place and looked around at the messy scene. Branches and green leaves littered the forest floor, and the foot of the unfortunate Orc could be seen peeking out from a bed of foliage. But what  
really made Gimli's blood cold was the massive number of fallen tree trunks. He almost got killed by a tree! He laughed out loud at the ridiculous notion. Once he got over his brief hysteria, the matter of Orcs alerted his mind.

'Orcs in Fangorn! I should warn Legolas and Treebeard,' he thought.

Spotting his axe near the roots a few feet from where he was, Gimli waded out of the leaves and reached for his weapon. As soon as he grabbed it though, he heard something slice the air with a dull whoosh. On instinct, he whipped around only to meet his  
head with an incoming branch as thick as a troll's arm. Only one thought consumed Gimli as the darkness enveloped him.

'Curse that Elf and his wretched love for these accursed trees.'

* * *

 _"Hoom._ Here we are, young ones. The great forest of Fangorn as you like to call it."

Treebeard, the great Ent, stood tall and proud before the edge of Fangorn Forest, seeming to expand as he took in the greatness of his home. He had left Isengard a few hours ago after meeting Gandalf, Celeborn, Galadriel, and other old friends. Beside  
him stood an Elf and a Dwarf. A curious duo, but the two did not seem to mind being with each other. On the contrary, the Elf had a hand on the Dwarf's shoulder and was talking excitedly to his unusual companion in a friendly manner.

"Look Gimli, we have made it! Do not look so grim, my friend. Remember that you have stepped foot in the forest of Fangorn before. Except this time, we have Master Fangorn, or Treebeard if you prefer, to guide us."

The Elf, Legolas, attempted to poke fun at his Dwarf friend, Gimli, who appeared to be bitterly reluctant to be reentering the ancient forest once more. Being surrounded by normal trees – that, Gimli did not mind. But he was not going to be surrounded  
by normal trees in there. These trees would be old and nearly alive. He had gotten that into his mind when he, Legolas, and Aragorn had tracked the Hobbits, Merry and Pippin, into the forest. His friend had been immediately captured by the forest's  
magic, but Gimli's skin had crawled with the unnaturalness of it all. Talking and thinking trees – absurd! But, he had made a deal with his friend, and Legolas had kept his side of the bargain by exploring the Glittering Caves with him, so Gimli knew  
that he had no choice but to keep his word as well. At least they both made it out of the war and were able to explore this land. That was enough to be grateful for, Gimli bargained.

"Treebeard, I thank you once more for your invitation into the forest," said Legolas. "It was great fortune that we met in Isengard, although it is a most unusual place to be looking for fortune!"

Treebeard smiled, reminding Gimli of his grandfather, and replied, " _Hroom_. It is my pleasure, young master Elf. It always delights me to talk to creatures of this earth, especially Elves. They are, after all, the ones who taught us how to speak."  
He spoke slowly as if he had all the time in the world, which he probably did.

"Well, what are we waiting for? If I am to bear the company of these trees once more, then I would like to get it over with as quickly as possible," grumbled Gimli.

"Ah yes, yes. I can stand here and talk to you about how the first trees were able to talk, but I remember that you folk are hasty. I will attempt to match your standards and show more than tell," groaned Treebeard. "You will be under my protection, but  
still, take care you do notswing your, _hoom_ ¸ swords and axes. The trees have become sensitive ever since the war. Nobody can blame them though…." He shook his head sadly and showered Gimli and Legolas with stray twigs and leaves.

However, Treebeard quickly abandoned his promise to do less telling, much to Gimli's impatience. As they passed the first trees, Treebeard continued to talk about the evil of Orcs and Saruman, and how they cut the forest down and burned many acres of  
land. Then he talked about some history, about the forest's original form, about the Entwives and what happened to them, and about Entings. If Merry and Pippin were here, they would be subject to listening to the same stories they have heard before.  
Legolas followed Treebeard's wide, leisurely steps with eyes sparkling with wonder and thirst as he lapped up every word the ancient being squeezed out. Gimli, meanwhile, had to struggle to not appear bored. It was bad enough that he was not as interested  
in the subject as much as his Elvish friend was, and Treebeard's lazy voice did not help in the slightest. Had he not been paying attention, he would have thought that the Ent's words were the sounds of great trees creaking in the wind. Treebeard's  
voice sounded like nature itself. He knew the Elves were old beings, but Legolas looked quite childlike compared to Treebeard, who was as old as the forest itself.

Treebeard would occasionally point out individual trees – the ones he felt closest to – and introduced them. They came across beech trees, oak trees, birch trees…. Although, to Gimli they appeared simply as 'trees.' Then they came across a tree quite  
smaller than the ones they have passed so far. It had a thin trunk and leaves in different shades of green. Gimli noticed petite, yellow and pink flowers scattered across its crown like colorful confetti.

"And here we see little, _hoom_ , Tenderblossom, I believe in your words. She bears lovely flowers in the spring. She is still young, you know. Can barely talk!" Treebeard said. Gimli thought he winked at them.

Legolas placed a hand on Tenderblossom's trunk and smiled as he gave a hearty, "Hello, Tenderblossom!" as if to greet a new friend. Treebeard seemed very content at Legolas's treatment of the tree.

To Gimli, however, Tenderblossom looked like any other tree.

"If Tenderblossom was an Entwife, I may have introduced her to Quickbeam, our youngest Ent," he added as he gave Legolas and Gimli a mischievous eye. Then he looked away shyly as if the very thought embarrassed him. Gimli restrained himself from rolling  
his eyes. Romance between trees… his people would never believe it.

"What about food?" Gimli blurted, "I am so famished that I would be content to taste any fruit this forest has to offer – no matter how evil it may be."

"We do not bear evil fruit, young master Dwarf," reassured Treebeard. "Well, at least not all of them are."

Legolas gave a merry laugh. "How can food be in your mind when all you have all this greatness about you, Gimli?"

"Well, one great thing about this forest is the lack of Elves compared to the number of trees. I shudder to think how it would have been otherwise. One tree-loving Elf is enough for me!"

Gimli shuddered theatrically and Legolas shoved him playfully.

" _Hoom, hoom._ Tree-loving indeed. You do have a point though, Gimli, son of Gloin. I think I will go fetch some food for you young ones," said Treebeard. "Back when Elves roamed these forests, they would often receive fruit given to them by grateful  
trees. Trees such as Tenderblossom here. She sometimes bears peaches. A fitting fruit for her lovely self, do you not agree? And then there was the time that-"

"I-If you forgive me, O Treebeard," stammered Gimli before Treebeard could talk away, "I think we can search for our own food. You need not worry yourself over our empty stomachs." In truth, he was quite worried that they would not get their food by sundown  
if Treebeard prepared it – if he ever got to preparing it before he stopped talking that is.

"I do not mind, Master Gimli. Actually, it is better this way because some of the berries and fruits may be, as you have said before, evil," the old Ent added with a lift of his bushy eyebrows. His eyes grew as Dwarvish parents' do when they scare their  
children with stories. Laughter bubbled deep in his throat as he delighted in Gimli's dumbfounded expression. Then he turned to Legolas and asked, "Would you like to see deeper into the forest, little Elf?"

Legolas looked absolutely delighted, like a young Elfling who had just received a present from his _nana_ and _ada._

"May I?" he exclaimed.

"Of course! You are free to explore these woods as you wish, little one. Just make sure Master Gimli does not swing his axe too high. Take all the time you need. I will be here with Tenderblossom and your food."

"I shall! Thank you, Treebeard! Come Gimli, I smell a different air in that direction."

Without waiting for Gimli, Legolas bounded away from Treebeard with his golden hair waving like sunlight. Eager to be stretching his legs and getting away from their host's insistent chattering, Gimli followed after his excited friend. But following an  
Elf through a forest did not turn out to be as simple as he had thought: Legolas zigzagged through trees and disappeared into bushes, only to reappear someplace Gimli did not expect. He seemed so much at ease in this environment, much as a squirrel  
or a raccoon would be, and Gimli was as comfortable as a rabbit would be floating in the ocean. The trees seemed to loom over him, just daring him to slip and make a mistake.

"What is in this direction?" asked Gimli, more to hear himself speak than from actual curiosity.

"I do not know! I hope to find out!" was Legolas's only reply.

Gimli found that he could hear his friend, but could not locate him with his eyes.

"Legolas? Legolas!" he called.

"I am here, Gimli!" Legolas replied from… above him? Gimli looked up to find Legolas waving cheerfully at him.

"The view is breathtaking from up here, my friend. You should come join me."

"I think I will pass."

"That is a shame!"

"Legolas, how long do you plan on staying here?"

But Legolas had already left, a flash of blond darting into a nearby tree. Grumbling under his breath, Gimli attempted to follow. He was trying his best to satisfy Legolas's needs in this forest, but traipsing around forests was not in his nature, and  
so the strain of his efforts were starting to get to him.

He could not locate his friend by sight, so he had to rely on his ears to follow. Gimli heard another rustle to his right and mindlessly changed direction. But the rustling soon became confined to one bush, and out popped not an Elf, but a squirrel. Startled,  
Gimli intuitively lifted his axe, but the instant groaning of trees nearby prompted him to slowly lower it once more.

"Wha- where is that damned Elf?" he growled. "Legolas!"

But all that answered were the low hums of trees and twittering of critters and birds.

"LEGOLAS!" he tried once more only to be slapped in the face with silence. "Did this Elf fall off a tree?"

"Not yet my dear friend."

Gimli nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden appearance of Legolas behind him.

"Durin's beard, Legolas! Do you mind shouting out a warning next time you decide to do that?"

Legolas cocked his head in mock innocence.

"Do you not think it strange that I shout out warnings before I intend to surprise?"

Gimli swiped at Legolas's tunic, but the Elf, laughing, nimbly jumped back to avoid it.

"How did you find me?" Gimli asked, "I thought I had wandered quite far from where we were. Did I leave too obvious a trail? Or do you keep a map somewhere in that long hair of yours?"

Legolas grinned widely, eager to satisfy what was perhaps Gimli's first real curiosity toward the forest.

"Do you really want to know, dear Gimli?"

Gimli shot Legolas an impatient look that clearly said, 'Well, get on with it while I am still interested.' Legolas looked above and around him, prompting Gimli to do the same.

"The trees told me."

"The trees."

Gimli repeated the words with barely a hint of skepticism. First there were walking and talking trees, and now there was an Elf that claimed he could actually converse with them. Was there no end to the day's surprises? Legolas caught Gimli's tone and  
chuckled good-heartedly.

"Yes Gimli, the trees. They have voices of their own as Treebeard has explained. You can always hear them, but to really understand them, one must listen closely." And Legolas gently pressed his ear (almost lovingly, Gimli noted) onto a nearby trunk as  
a man would onto his pregnant wife's belly. Perhaps it was the sincere way Legolas explained it, or Gimli's intent to humor his friend; whatever it was, Gimli found himself leaning into the same tree and straining his ears to listen for a sound. But  
even after minutes of awkward listening, he heard nothing. Feeling ridiculous, he tore away from the tree as if it insulted him with its silence.

"Well, I hear nothing. Perhaps you are only hearing voices in your head, Legolas."

Instead of a clever remark as Gimli had expected, Legolas smiled somewhat sadly.

"It is a pity you do not share this wonderful experience," he sighed.

At his friend's dejected remark, Gimli was almost tempted to put his ear to the trunk again. However, he was stopped by a low creaking of that very tree to which Legolas frowned.

"What is it?" Gimli asked.

"It is unnerved. Something makes it unhappy."

"Well, I hope it is not I who makes it uncomfortable."

"I do not think you are the cause," assured Legolas, his expression smoothing out. "It is probably nothing. Treebeard has told us that the trees have been restless ever since the war, after all."

Gimli nodded in agreement. "Shall we go back to Treebeard, then?" he asked hopefully.

"Just one more stop and then I will join you!" Legolas exclaimed, spirits high once more. With an ambiguous wave of his hand which Gimli did not know whether to decipher as a wave of goodbye or a sign to follow, Legolas was already running to another  
part of the forest.

Gimli did not bother to hide his grumpiness as he debated for a moment whether to follow or to stay and wait for him to come back. He thought of his friend's enthusiasm to explore the deep parts of the forest and judged that it was very unlikely he come  
back to look for him anytime soon. Well, Gimli could always go back to Treebeard alone, given that he could find his way back in this labyrinth of a forest. He let out a great sigh at that thought; anything was better than enduring Treebeard's history  
lessons. Deciding to try his luck at surviving the forest alone, Gimli trudged through the thick foliage, careful not to lift his axe too high. He hated this, hated how he had to be wary of the trees' emotions. For the love of Durin, they weren't  
even alive! Oh, but he would tolerate Fangorn only because he knew Legolas would do the same for him. 'Think positive, Gimli,' he told himself. He would think of Lothlorien. Yes, he would think of Lady Galadriel. At least her forest was blessed with  
her beauty.

A tiny, genuine smile crept into Gimli's beard as he dreamt of the beautiful Elf and her golden hair. _Golden_ was an insufficient word to describe her luscious locks. There were no words in any language of the world to describe how stunning she  
was. Even sunlight itself could not match her hair.

A dangerous groaning of the trees jolted Gimli out of his happy thoughts. He averted his attention to his axe, but found that it was safely snuggled on his shoulder.

"Oh what bothers you now you damned trees?" The groans continued. "I- I mean, wonderful, beautiful, lovely trees."

That was it. He had lost it. He was talking to trees! Flattering them! What would his people think of him now? But despite Gimli's efforts, the compliments did not seem to reach them. In fact, the sounds intensified which honestly were starting to frighten  
Gimli. He shook his head to clear his emotions. They were trees. What could they do to him? A sudden great boom made Gimli drop his axe and raise his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Alright, alright! I am not here to do you any harm, see?"

The trees were now moving, swaying and twisting lethargically against the wind as if stretching after a long night's sleep. Gimli was really starting to lose his patience now. He had humored these trees long enough.

"I honestly do not know what is upsetting you. It would greatly help if you could tell me instead of pouting like children. And it would help even more if you could show up anytime now, Legolas!"

Miraculously enough, Gimli heard footsteps behind him and he sighed heavily in relief. But almost immediately, he realized that the footsteps were too heavy to be Legolas, and they were many. He mechanically turned around and was amazed to find five Orcs  
looking as surprised as he was to have stumbled across another living being. The trees around them were now visibly angry – Gimli did not have to be an Elf to see that. They were shaking and flailing their branches dangerously close to the Orcs and  
Gimli as if to shoo them away. A few Orcs swatted at the branches annoyingly, growling in protest whenever one managed to snag itself onto his skin. They all had their weapons raised, which Gimli figured was why the trees were so upset before. The  
biggest Orc at the front – probably the leader of the pack – ignored the distractions and fixed his leer onto Gimli. There was no need to question each other on why they were in the forest. They have come upon enemies, and that was all that mattered.  
He pointed his sword at Gimli and growled something in the black speech. Preparing himself for a fight, Gimli picked up his own axe and went into a defensive stance. The forest sprang into offense.

* * *

The old trees of Fangorn murmured amongst themselves as the stranger sprinted through the forest. Light feet stirred the crispy leaves and fingers brushed against bark. Fangorn forest was not fond of visitors, but it had not had an Elvish one for quite  
some time now. The older trees had not forgotten the gifts they had brought them, so they left this stranger to do as he wished under their watchful eyes.

Legolas stopped where a patch of sunlight was splashed across the floor, painting the grass gold enough to make his father jealous. He breathed in the moist air and exhaled happily. He must be close to the heart of the forest by now for the air felt cooler  
as he got deeper inside. On a whim, Legolas climbed the closest tree and sat on the sturdiest branch as he gazed out into what has become one of his favorite views. If the daytime view was this breathtaking, he could hardly wait to get a view of the  
old forest under a starry night. Fangorn had a time-worn appeal to it that was different from Mirkwood. It was almost as if time had approached the place, but instead of passing by, had decided to settle in it. Legolas played with the leaves drooping  
over his head and smiled. How long has it been since he enjoyed such leisure? He swung his dangling legs back and forth like he used to do back when he was home in Mirkwood. Dear Gimli would probably make fun if he were to find him doing this. 'You  
may be old in age, but you are as every bit childish as a new born babe!' he would say. Legolas smirked as he imagined the banter. He should go back and find Gimli; he would not like it if he were to tarry too long.

He raised one knee and then the other, and slowly got up, all the while eyes glued to the distracting, magnificent sight ahead. Perhaps that was what caused Legolas to drop his guard, but he was caught unaware by the unfamiliar voice that called out to  
him as he prepared to climb down.

"Hello there!" a deep voice called.

Immediately snapping to attention with a sharp intake, Legolas tore his gaze away from the nature and fixed it on the ground where five men had approached the tree he had been in. How long they had been there and whether they had been watching him, he  
could not know. Without returning an answer, Legolas's eyes quickly went from one man to the next, scrutinizing each of them. They all had dark skin in various tones and sharp facial features. This he could tell by their eyes despite the cloth they  
all had over their faces. Their weapons and their armor suggested that they were men of Harad; the same men he had fought at Pelennor Fields. They had spread out around the tree, which was part of what made Legolas's hair stand on end. They were making  
him feel uncomfortably cornered, and he was glad that the shadow of the tree concealed him somewhat.

The man that spoke lowered his ragged scarf and stepped forward with hands raised halfway in what was probably meant to be a peaceful gesture. It reminded Legolas of the way Aragorn acted when they came across Eomer and the exiled Rohirrim for the first  
time. But it did not have the same reassuring feel to it, and Legolas had to dig his feet into the branch he was on to keep from climbing higher.

"Kind Sir, please do not be so suspicious. We come in peace. Do you speak Westron?" the man accentuated, the thick accent betraying his unfamiliarity of the language.

Legolas did not answer. Men were normally wary of Fangorn Forest and tended to steer clear of the place, so these strange people invited caution rather than welcome in Legolas.

When the man, apparently the leader of the group, realized that he would not be getting a greeting from Legolas, he took another step toward the tree and spoke again.

"If it would make you less suspicious, I will tell you my name. I am Haashim. Would the kind Sir be willing to tell us his name?

"You should not be here," Legolas said at last, ignoring Haashim's question. "The forest does not take kindly to strangers. Leave while you still can."

Haashim dropped his hands and tightened his lips just a fraction; a smile immediately took its place, though. If he was faking it, he was very good at it, Legolas had to admit.

"Believe me, we would very much love to. You see, we are not suspicious people, but lost men in a forest trying to get back home," said Haashim, "But alas, these woods do not yield the exit to us."

Legolas stared at him, apprehensive of what he was going to say next.

"My men and I were wondering… if the kind, nameless Sir could show us the way out. If he only did that, we would gladly be on our way."

"Is it the exit you want?" Without moving from his position, Legolas pointed toward the east. "Continue in that direction, and you will find it."

"We have already tried that direction. And the west. And the south. And the north. But no matter how much we walk, we always end up in the same place. Dear Sir, this is the first time we met another man in these woods. I am very reluctant to let this  
chance to pass by. Will you not come down and lead us out?"

Legolas shook his head disbelievingly at this man, Haashim's, bold words.

"I am afraid I cannot do that. I see that you are men of Harad, men that chose to fight for the wrong side during the war. I am not one to mix with such men so easily," he said.

A ripple of quiet, worried murmurs erupted amongst the men. Some of them narrowed their eyes almost hostilely at Legolas. Haashim looked equally uncomfortable and notched up his tone.

"Have mercy! We did not all choose to be in that war. It was either war or death for us and our families. You do not know the terror of the Dark Lord and what he can unleash on those that disobey. We fled from the battle against Gondor once it was clear  
that we have lost, and we have been wandering in this forest for at least two days with very little food and water since. And the trees here are haunting, almost as if they are possessed! Please, kind Forest Dweller, all we want is to go home to our  
wife and children," Haashim pleaded.

Legolas recoiled at the desperate way he said it. Haashim's eyes did not lie, nor did his cheekbones: they were prominent from the lack of food. Perhaps these men were truthful and simply lost. He had known in his heart that many of the men of Harad were  
probably brought here to fight for Sauron against their will. For all he knew, even some Gondorions might have felt the same. There were, after all, good and bad men in all corners of the world, as it was with all people. After debating with himself  
in the tense silence of the men, Legolas sighed as he came to a conclusion. Gimli will not like this.

"Alright… I will come down and help you," he resigned.

Haashim and the men visibly looked relieved. Legolas did not descend, but jumped nimbly to the nearest tree (eliciting gasps from the men below) to climb down instead. He did not want to land in the middle of so many unfamiliar men.

Once Legolas stepped out of the shadows to reveal himself in front of the men, there was another collective gasp as they took in the blond hair, tall form, proud stance, and especially the pointed ears. They were laying their eyes on an Elf for the first  
time of their lives. All the men whispered excitedly in their own language except for Haashim, who stood gazing silently at Legolas with surprise and wonder.

"I must admit, I did not expect to see a _Vyari*_ in my lifetime. I did not believe they were real," murmured Haashim.

"A _Vyari?"_ repeated Legolas.

"It is what we call creatures like you: tall, fair, and pointed ears."

"Ah, I see…." Legolas answered, frowning at the word _creature_. "Follow me. It should only take about a couple of hours at a decent pace."

Not eager to converse with these men too much, Legolas walked past them and started toward where the edge of the forest awaited. Haashim stretched his lips tight, but said no more as he silently indicated with his head for the rest of the men to follow.

It would have been a quiet trek across the forest had Haashim not bombarded Legolas with questions and small talk. As his men followed wordlessly behind, Haashim walked alongside Legolas and asked about his home, his race, his culture, his choice of weapons,  
his fighting style, his strengths, his weaknesses…. Becoming increasingly uncomfortable with each question, Legolas answered only a handful and deflected the rest with silence. This did not deter Haashim, though, as it only seemed to increase his  
curiosity of this mythical creature. But questions were not the only thing Haashim asked. He provided information about himself and his men as well.

"My men are the most loyal ones a man could ask for," he chattered. "The one closest to us is Umar, a close friend of mine. The big man with the big sword next to Umar is Bakar. Then behind them is Jibran. And last we have Tyr, the youngest of us. Youngest,  
but not weakest," he added with a glint in his eye.

Legolas looked at Haashim at last with confusion more than suspicion in his eyes.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked.

Haashim smiled. "To know a man's name, one must speak his first. I would love to know your name, kind Sir. Please understand, we do not have _Vyari_ , or _Elves_ as you have said, back home."

Legolas looked straight ahead as he considered Haashim's words. He seemed honestly curious, and he had to admit that these men have not done anything to deserve the scorn he had directed toward them so far. He allowed himself a small smirk as he thought  
how his father would have been proud had he seen the coldness of his son. But he was not his father. He had seen goodness in Dwarves through Gimli; perhaps he could see goodness in these men as well.

After a long silence, Legolas opened his mouth and hesitated just a second longer before finally saying:

"My name is Legolas."

* * *

 **Wahoo! What a long chapter. I'm not sure if the rest of the chapters will be as long, though. I'm going to try to make them as long though. But that would mean that it would take me longer to write each chapter, especially with the semester starting soon. Be patient with me please :)**

 ***** ** _Vyari_** **is a made up Haradrim word. I don't know what language the Haradrim use, and I don't think Tolkien really worked on it, but I really wanted Haashim to use his own language for the word 'Elf' to show how foreign Legolas is to them. That's why I just kind of made up a word… I hope there are no misunderstandings! And technically,** ** _Vyari_** **doesn't translate directly to** ** _Elf_** **. It's more like a fairy tale-like mythical being to them.**


	2. The Felled Deer

**Maybe I should have crammed this story into one big chapter. It's so hard to cut and begin! I was lucky the last time because Legolas showed me how to end it (seriously… I just kind of let the characters play and see where it goes, and apparently, Legolas didn't want to tell the men his name until the end), but then I had no idea how to begin this chapter! Let's see where they take me now….**

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 _"You are a Wood-elf, anyway, though Elves of any kind are strange folk. Yet you comfort me. Where you go, I will go."_

\- _Gimli from The Two Towers_

 **Chapter 2 - The Felled Deer**

"You have a woman back home, Master Legolas?"

Legolas nearly choked on Haashim's 100th question as he popped a wild berry into his mouth. Haashim had not dropped his interview even as he and his men sat in a circle on the soft grass, wolfing down the berries Legolas had scavenged for them. The men had begged for some food and rest lest they faint from starvation. Legolas too was glad for the break for he was getting as tired as the men, not so much from the walking, but from the questions. They were getting more and more detailed and personal. His reluctance and indifference were not discouraging Haashim as he had hoped.

"No."

"Oh, but you do have female Elves, yes?"

Legolas snorted. "Of course we do," he retorted irritably. At first, he merely thought Haashim as an exceptionally curious man, but now he was dangerously bordering along ignorance.

"That is interesting."

'Is it?' Legolas thought bitterly as he busied his mouth with another berry. He did not sit in a circle with the men, but stood leaning against a nearby tree as he did not completely trust these strangers yet. And he probably never would. He only had to endure them until they exited the forest, which was not too far ahead.

He had unwillingly learned a lot about them over the brief time they had been walking thanks to Haashim. Umar, for one thing, had been friends with Haashim since they were children. They grew up in the same village and were both dispatched to this land a few months ago: Haashim as a captain, and Umar as a doctor. Bakar and Jibran grew up in the same village further west than Haashim and Umar's, but did not know each other until they became the same team. Tyr was the only one whose background was vaguely known. He was the scout and archer of the team since he was the most agile and silent. The young one carried an aura too grave for one of his age, and Legolas guessed that he had gone through some difficult times.

Legolas casually looked over at the men and abruptly caught Haashim's piercing gaze. The man had not eaten his berries yet, although he must be starving – a display of pride perhaps? Man and Elf locked eyes, and Legolas absorbed much information about him through them. Haashim's eyes were deep, dark, and hardened by difficult experiences. They were the eyes of a man who had seen many deaths, and were not afraid to give or receive it either. His set jawline displayed his fiery determination to see through whatever he started. Legolas could see why men would follow him. He had a handsome face, but not in a way that women would fall for; it was a face that screamed charisma and leadership. But what fascinated him the most was the evidence of warmth. He could not pinpoint it and explain it, but it was there, and that was probably the reason why Legolas was still helping the men.

"I presume you have a wife?" Legolas asked for the first time.

Haashim, caught off guard, stammered a little as he answered, "I- yes, I do. And three children. We are expecting a fourth…." His eyes darted to the ground mid-sentence as if he was guilty of something. "Actually, I think the fourth may have been born now…." he mumbled.

The man with the sharp eyes and lighter features that sat next to Haashim – Umar, Legolas remembered – looked up at his leader and frowned.

 _"_ _You did not tell me of this,"_ he said in his own language. Although Legolas did not understand, the tone sounded a little accusatory.

 _"_ _I have just remembered,"_ Haashim answered, _"Poor Shana. She had to go through childbirth by herself."_

Umar put a strong hand on Haashim's shoulder and squeezed it.

 _"_ _We must get you back home. The town will celebrate! I will have Roshi cook something special. You know she is the best cook."_

Haashim smiled at Umar. _"But not as much as my wife."_

All the men shared low chuckles at the remark.

 _"_ _I would die for some home-made bread,"_ grumbled Bakar as he swallowed his last berry whole.

 _"_ _And some meat and wine!"_ Jibran added.

The conversation became alive as the men reminisced in the memories of their lives back home. All except Tyr. He was not doing much talking, but just sat with his chin in his hand, smiling as he listened to the older men jabber away. Haashim also let the man have their moments while he himself studied Legolas intensely. The Elf stood motionless, eyes drooping slightly as if bored or in a daydream as he rested his head against a tree. The Harad captain found him maddeningly interesting. He had a body of a man, but an ethereal quality to him that was almost feminine, yet not quite feminine enough. He could tell that this creature was capable of lethal action not only by the weapons or the muscles, but by his eyes. Oh, the threatening look Legolas had given him and his men had not slipped past Haashim's attention. He had to admit that it had given him goose bumps. Never had he seen such great and unique a creature since the great mumakil.

Lost in thought, Haashim flinched when Legolas's eyes swiveled and fixed itself on him. Had he known that he was watching him? Haashim coughed nervously before he threw all his berries into his mouth at once and casually asked Legolas another question.

"So, you say you are visiting these woods, Master Legolas?"

Without taking his eyes off Haashim or making any movement Legolas answered in a level voice, "I am."

"Then how, may I ask, do you know your way around this maze-like place?"

"I have my ways."

"Elvish magic, perhaps?"

"Perhaps."

"Can all Elves do magic?"

"It is likely."

"Do Elves like to be alone?"

"Some of them do."

"Do you like to be alone?"

"Sometimes."

"And are you travelling alone?"

Legolas frowned suspiciously at the question. Now it sounded like Haashim was probing.

"Why do you ask?"

Haashim shrugged and started to get up. The other men followed suit, grabbing their packs and weapons.

"Curiosity, Master Elf. If you have not noticed already, I am a curious man. So are my men, but they are not as fluent in Westron. So, I ask the questions for them."

With no further words, Haashim stepped aside almost too politely and swept his hand to the road ahead, indicating for Legolas to go first. Legolas narrowed his eyes and went to the front of the line. But as he passed Haashim, he paused and turned to face the man, who was nearly equal in height.

"No, I am not alone," he replied in a low voice. The two held each other's eyes for a tense second. Haashim was smiling, but his eyes had darkened as they read the implied warning in Legolas's words.

As the men followed Legolas once more, Umar walked up to Haashim and spoke to him in a hushed voice.

 _"_ _Haashim, I do not like this. He says he is not alone, but how many he is with, we cannot know."_

Haashim rubbed his chin and mouth as he stared at Legolas's back, all the while presuming the Elf was aware of his gaze.

 _"_ _I do not think we have to worry about numbers, Umar. He is not alone, but he is probably not with many as he makes himself sound to be."_

 _"_ _How do you know?"_

 _"_ _Instinct, my friend."_

Umar scoffed.

 _"_ _I respect you, my captain, my friend, but I do not trust this Vyari. His thoughts are difficult to read. There may be hoards of them on our very backs right now. I did not like him from the moment I saw him. Why do you familiarize yourself with him so?"_ he complained.

Haashim tightened his lips, the way he always does when he is thinking hard. Umar knew that his friend already knew what to say; he was just looking for the right words.

 _"_ _I have been thinking… do you remember Khaldoon_ , _Umar?"_ Haashim finally asked. Umar's eyebrows shot up at the name.

 _"_ _The Mad Collector? Why do you speak of him?"_

Haashim stared at Umar as if trying to bore his meaning into him. Umar, ever the quick thinker, dropped his jaw as he caught on quickly.

 _"_ _Surely you don't mean-? You have always hated the man and his sick hobbies!"_ he exclaimed in a whisper. His eyes darted to Legolas as if worried he would understand the conversation. When he looked back to Haashim, he saw that his friend was serious.

 _"_ _It would be best for all of us and our families. When we go back, we will not have much left, especially since we lost the war. We will need the money,"_ said Haashim, _"And that, my friend, is why I must gain his trust."_

Umar shook his head in disbelief. _"That is bold thinking, Haashim. How will you get him to follow? It was difficult enough to persuade him to show us out of the woods."_

 _"_ _I will think of something. Now hush, he may be listening."_

Legolas's back itched in tense anticipation. The urgent whispers behind him were extremely unnerving, and he almost expected a knife to plunge into his back anytime. The only reason he did not turn around was because the trees were silent. Had any of the men raised arms, the trees would have been enough to alert him. He knew they were talking about him. The only word he knew, _Vyari_ , had caught his ear, and the tone in which it was said set off warnings in his head.

But another anxious feeling was creeping into his heart that had nothing to do with the men behind him. A light breeze stirred the leaves: Simple wind to the men, but to Legolas, a message. The trees were passing a warning down the line. Something draws near. Something unwanted. Something… repulsive. It was approaching quickly enough that Legolas drew his bow and notched an arrow faster than he could say "Gondor." Startled, the other men also drew their weapons, though not so sure where to point them. Looking from the surroundings to Legolas, Haashim cautiously approached him with his sword lowered.

"What is it?" the man asked.

"Something approaches. It is making my hair stand on end," Legolas replied.

For a moment, the company of six stood rigid with their respective weapons in hand along with ears and eyes straining for anything out of the ordinary.

"Does anything… live in these woods?" Umar whispered.

"Nothing foul that I know of," said Legolas.

It did not do much to reassure the men though. So Haashim followed Legolas's gaze and ordered Tyr to go investigate. Without a word, Tyr obediently slipped into the darkness of the trees ahead. As the rest of the party waited with sweaty palms, the forest suffocated them in its silence. Not a bird chirped nor a leaf stirred in the nonexistent wind. Legolas was the only one not shuffling nervously on his feet with his ostensibly confident stance, and he had also relaxed his arm somewhat. Haashim and Umar exchanged looks: Was this a trap?

Suddenly, as quick as a lioness would pounce at its prey, an arrow shot through the air and dived into the grass a few feet from where the men were. A heartbeat later, another one hesitantly followed and landed near the first. Out of pure reflex, Legolas pulled his bowstring taut, but gasped sharply when Haashim roughly grabbed his arm and jerked it away from his intended target. His arrow flew astray and became lodged between a random tree's roots. Legolas shot Haashim – who still had Legolas's arm in his – a look so furious that the man's breath hitched just the slightest.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, angrily eyeing the hand on his arm. Haashim released his hold and showed his open palms to Legolas before pointing to the arrow in the grass.

"That is Tyr's arrow," he said in a strained whisper.

"Your scout? Why does he attack us?"

"He is signaling to us, not attacking us. It is our way of communicating when noise is bound to be dangerous. See how it has landed obviously far from us? The arrow is also very dull and is only fit for such usage, not battle."

Legolas softened his expression as Haashim calmly explained their ways to him.

"I understand. Forgive me. I could have injured one of your men," he apologized. Haashim smiled politely.

"No harm done, Master Legolas."

Legolas stared in wonder at the two arrows. Quite a unique mode of communication, he mused.

"What do the arrows mean?" he asked.

Haashim's smile melted into confusion as he mumbled incoherent words. The other men were also fumbling with their weapons, not sure what to do with them.

"Well, one arrow means enemies…."

"And two?" the Elf prompted.

"Two arrows mean-"

Before Haashim could finish his sentence however, the trees all but screeched at the same time Tyr came bounding back to the group. Legolas shivered at the ferocity of the trees and groped for another arrow despite Haashim putting another hand on his bow arm. Tyr answered Haashim's puzzled look with a quick succession of words to which the leader's eyes flashed. The men murmured amongst each other, while Haashim spoke angrily to nobody in particular and ruffled his hair as he paced in short steps. Legolas caught Haashim glancing at him, and he returned the look with a frown.

"What do two arrows mean?" he asked again.

Haashim sighed and replied none-to-happily, "Two arrows mean friends, Master Elf."

"Friends?" Legolas repeated. That did not explain the men's reaction. And what friends would these lost men have in Fangorn?

No sooner had he questioned Haashim did a series of growls reach his ears. His head whipped back to where Tyr had scouted and was shocked to find three wicked looking Orcs wielding ugly weapons marching towards the group. The shrieking of the trees had disrupted his hearing and so had not been able to detect the Orcs in time. One of the creatures narrowed his eyes at them and called out: "There you are! Where did you and your men go prancing off to, Haashim? Oh? What a pretty prize you have there. Trying to make off with it all by ourselves are we now?"

It was almost comical the way Legolas and Haashim exchanged looks: the Elf in panicked realization, and the man in panicked guilt. Quicker than a heartbeat, Legolas dropped the arrow he was holding, unsheathed his white sword, and swiped once at the men to drive them back. A cry of pain issued from one of them – Jibran perhaps – as Legolas's sword cut into his arm. Seeing the excitement of action, the Orcs gave a great battle cry and raised their weapons. Haashim frantically shouted orders to the men in that foreign tongue of his, and soon Legolas found himself facing whom he once thought could have been good people. Hurling at them an icy glare, he darted left before they could encircle him any further. He only had to lose them in the labyrinth of trees and he would be safe within the protective environment of Fangorn. Already the trees around them were starting to shiver as violence dared to ensue on their grounds. As he was about to disappear behind the nearest trunk, however, there was a twang, a thump, a short cry, and Legolas was tumbling in the leaves and grass. The grounded Elf dragged his eyes to his legs and shuddered as they captured an evil-looking black arrow protruding from his right thigh. A victorious roar shook the air. His injured leg would accept no energy and left him helplessly waiting for his assailants to catch up to him, like a hunter would to a trapped game. Glad his sword was still in hand, Legolas desperately swished it around, daring anybody to step forward. The men, contrary to the Orcs, did not seem too enthusiastic about even trying. An Orc that seemed too skinny for his armor stepped forward with a bow that also looked too big for him and aimed another arrow – this time at Legolas's heart. Pure terror seized his arm and fixated his eyes on the point that would deliver his death soon. The Orc dragged on with his lips stretched in a sadistic smile: He was reveling in the Elf's fear.

"No! No! Do not kill him!" Haashim frantically shouted.

The Orc's smile was replaced with a disappointed scowl, but he did not lower his weapon. The biggest Orc among the three turned and confronted Haashim. His chest puffed up to look all the more menacing.

"You've got guts, Kid. Since when do we take orders from you?"

"Dear Mauluk. I am not ordering anybody. My apologies if it sounded so. But for a moment, just think about something other than killing and injuring. There is much to be gained by keeping the Elf alive."

Mauluk grunted like a wild boar. Haashim cautiously took this as a sign to continue.

"There is a man back in my village, a very rich man. He is a collector of rare species from all over the world – both living and non-living. He has many creatures in his collections, but alas, they are only confined to creatures of Harad, and he is ever hungry for more. If we give him what is not from that land, he may pay us a sum handsome enough to feed all five of my men's families for three generations! And if you help us get him to Harad, I promise you that you will also be rewarded.

Haashim sounded like a merchant trying to sell goods to a skeptic buyer, or a swindler preying on a poor victim. Either way, it seemed he was quite persuasive for he had Mauluk rubbing his chin thoughtfully. While all attention was turned to Mauluk and Haashim, Legolas attempted to take this chance to edge away from the scene. But the arrow in his leg was persistent and begged for his attention by shooting spasms up his body with each tiny movement. Legolas could not hold his voice in any longer and let out a soft, strangled moan. Alerted by this sound, the Orc with the bow stomped up to his victim and used his momentary vulnerability to kick his sword away from him. He shook his own weapon menacingly ("Don't think I won't stick you in the gut just because someone wants you alive"), effectively pinning Legolas to the spot.

"What prize does a man have to offer us?" Mauluk challenged.

"As much gold as you wish and the honor of our entire village. He is also a man commanding a large army. He is basically the most powerful man in our village. If you help us, I will personally persuade him of your deeds and he will most likely present you with an army of your own."

Umar bit his lip at Haashim's obvious improvisation. He was treading on dangerous paths here. One wrong move and these Orcs could kill them all. But Umar had given Mauluk and his men more credit than they deserved. Mauluk's eyes shone at the thought of commanding his own army. The three Orcs had been part of the lower ranks back when they served the Great Eye, and the thought of finally getting some recognition was too good a chance to pass by. Grinning in naïve glee, the Orc leader stepped toward Haashim and declared,

"You have a deal."

Umar released the breath he had been holding and shared a glance with his friend. Haashim looked equally relieved that the immediate danger had passed, but he knew a bigger storm may yet come.

"So what do we do with 'im?" asked the archer Orc, inclining his head toward Legolas. Haashim looked at his Elf guide and was not too surprised to find that he was glaring at him with immense loathing. He could practically see the insults shooting from Legolas's eyes.

"He said he had friends," said Haashim not taking his eyes off Legolas, "But we do not know how many. It would be dangerous to have them trailing behind us."

The skinny Orc jabbed his arrow at Legolas's neck.

"Tell us how many rats are behind you," he demanded.

Legolas glued his mouth shut and played the mute.

"Just tell them where your friends are if you do not want to get hurt. I know you are not alone," Haashim said.

When Legolas gave no response, the Orc gave a short laugh that sounded like a goose honk and shot Legolas on the hip without a second's hesitation. He cried out in shock and fell back into the grass from the force. After waiting a moment for Legolas to regain himself, the Orc reached down and ripped the arrow – barbed at the ends as if multiple arrowheads had been plastered on top of each other – out. It was a surprise that neither Treebeard nor Gimli came running to his aid because Legolas's unearthly screams were loud enough to be heard from Lothlorien. Shaking from the burning in his bleeding hip that overrode the pain in his leg, he had to wait for the ringing in his hears to subside before he began to hear the mumbled beginnings of more interrogation.

"Quit yer yabbering. Shut him up Yagrad. He might wake the trees again, he will," Legolas heard Mauluk say.

"The trees?" Haashim asked.

"There's some sort of Elvish sorcery in these woods. Back over there the trees came alive like a pack of wild wargs and killed two of my men when we were fighting that Dwarf!" Mauluk growled.

"They killed my brother! I want revenge!" one shouted.

"Shut up Gaznag! Since when do you care about Gazuf?"

Legolas's heart skipped a beat at the mention of a Dwarf. Surely, that must be Gimli!

"A Dwarf? Are you saying you saw a Dwarf in this forest?" asked Haashim.

"Unless he was a stout man, I'm sure. I know a Dwarf when I see one."

"And was he alone?"

"Yarr! He was alone. And he is probably dead! The trees were unforgiving."

Legolas started when Haashim abruptly turned to him and pierced him with a scrutinizing gaze. Trying to regain his composure, he returned the look without a word. But he knew it was too late. The corner of the man's lips curled in amusement.

"Not _friends_ , but _a_ friend. Am I right, Master Legolas? You know this Dwarf."

"Elves do not make habits of befriending Dwarves," he replied coldly.

"I'm sure they don't," said Haashim with a dismissive wave of his hand. "But I would like to. The Small People are also a rarity in Harad. Tyr! Go find Master Legolas's friend – the Orcs will tell you which direction – and escort him here. Be kind." He added the last words with heavy emphasis.

Tyr gave a curt nod and went to fulfill his mission while Haashim gave additional orders to the other men and the Orcs. The Orcs sneered at Haashim at first, but grudgingly went to work at Mauluk's angry bark. Legolas's leg remained unyielding, and left him watching, powerless, at Tyr's retreating back.

"You stoop too low, human," he growled at Haashim. "Joining hands with Sauron and fleeing only to join Orcs instead? You are a coward amongst men. I am a fool for believing your stories about your wife and children. I see now that those were only stories to gain my trust."

Haashim stretched his lips tight again and slowly walked over to where Legolas helplessly lay on his elbows. He crouched down and looked Legolas in the eye. His dark eyes were strong enough to penetrate weak souls.

"No, Master Legolas, those stories were true," he said in a low voice. "My love, Shana, and my dear children, Marisa, Bruno, and little Ambar. They are all real." He snarled the last four words as if it physically pained him to say them. These words would have evoked sympathy within Legolas under regular circumstances, but now, not a speck of warmth could be found in his blue orbs. Haashim dropped his gaze momentarily and paused before looking back up with softer eyes.

"The pain of war is real too, Master Elf. It inflicts us all. We were promised riches from Sauron when we were drafted, but alas, we have lost. I do not care much for the riches themselves, but I have nothing back home and my family is probably starving. What would you have a man do when faced with such circumstances? Please understand that I do not join the Orcs willingly. I have no choice."

"You ask much of me. Would you ask the deer for forgiveness after shooting it down?" Legolas said bitterly. Haashim chuckled humorlessly at the retort.

"I regret that it has come to this," he said, "Had I known, I would not have made the effort of getting to know you."

"It would not have made a difference. Corrupted men always make corrupted choices in the end."

Haashim released a harsh breath before straightening himself up and looking around the site at the men and Orcs going about their business.

"Do not blame me, Master Legolas. Blame the war. It makes demons of the noblest men."

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 **I had to cut this chapter because I planned waaay too much material to fit it into this one chapter. Friendship! Betrayal! Family! War! All fun topics. Especially betrayal!**


	3. Wrath

**Hi everyone. Very sorry for the long delay. It's been a hectic semester and I had absolutely no time to write :( Plus I kind of forgot the story while I took a break so I had to get back in the mood. I'm back now!**

 **Any italicized dialogue means that it's in a foreign language. It could be Elvish, Haradrim, or any other language depending on the context. Anything not italicized means it's in English.**

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 _"But you are a dwarf, and dwarves are strange folk. I do not like this place, and I shall like it no more by the light of day. But you comfort me, Gimli, and I am glad to have you standing nigh with your stout legs and your hard axe." – Legolas_

\- _The Two Towers_

 **Chapter 3 - Wrath**

Gimli awoke to a pounding head and churning stomach. Groaning involuntarily, he emerged out of the sea of foliage, sputtering and spitting out bugs and twigs that could not manage to snag a space in his greatly untamed beard. With a great growl he tugged at the thick, red hair to no avail. He picked up his axe and briefly put it to his beard, but put it back down with a resigned sigh. He looked around at the unchanged scene and became quite concerned with how much time must have passed. There was no sign anywhere of Legolas, and he thought that his friend should have come back to him by now. Either something else had distracted his forest-worshipping friend, or danger had befallen him. Gimli shook his head in denial of the latter possibility. The Elf could not possibly be anywhere safer. This he thought until his gaze came across the perfectly still Orc body. Orcs! Yes, he must find Legolas quickly and get out of this forest before even more trouble found them. Gimli rubbed his head where the tree branch had clubbed him. This was sure to bother him for days. Remembering the trees' vengeance, he moved with the delicacy of a spying ranger out of the disastrous grounds.

He stood there for a moment wondering which direction to head toward. He would have to be careful, for haste would definitely get him even more lost than he was now. A sudden thought struck Gimli and he groaned at the ridiculousness of it. He racked his brain for any other solution, but it seemed he had no choice. Sweeping the forest with his eyes to make sure nobody was looking, the dwarf lay his axe on the grass and leaned into the nearest tree. He closed his eyes and focused all his concentration on his hearing.

He could hear the swaying of leaves and boughs, the chirping of birds, the groaning of trees… nothing useful!

'Have patience, dear Gimli,' he could hear Legolas saying, 'You must listen if you wish to understand.'

"I'm trying..." he mumbled.

With his ear pressed harder into the trunk, Gimli remained as still as a Dwarf could be.

He could hear the swaying of leaves and boughs, the chirping of birds, the groaning of trees, the thump-thump-thump of footsteps….

At this new sound, Gimli's eyes flew open and focused on a man clad in dark red and black armor sprinting toward him so fast he tripped on his own feet several times. He could see the relief on the man's face when he saw him. A quick scan told him that this was a Haradrim man, an archer like Legolas judging by his cobra-like bow. Gimli grabbed his axe and nestled it pseudo-casually on his shoulder.

"Stop where you are if you want to keep your legs," he growled.

The man slid to a stop and put out a cautious hand. With the other, he pulled down the black scarf that had been covering his mouth and nose. He was young, Gimli thought absentmindedly, maybe even younger than Pippin.

"Peace, Stout Sir. I only come to ask for your assistance," he said in perfect Westron.

Gimli looked about him before raising an eyebrow.

"Those are funny words, boy. Who are you and how did you know to find me here?"

The Harad made ambiguous hand gestures – pointing to his ears, behind him, and around at the trees – and answered, "That is a question for another time. Hurry! Your friend is in danger: The trees have attacked his legs and he is in no condition to move."

"My friend?" Gimli repeated. "How do you know this person is my friend?" He adjusted his hold on his axe as he said this.

The man's eyes shot from the weapon to Gimli. He pulled up his mask and spoke clearly, "Legolas; he is your friend, is he not?"

With a beast-like roar, Gimli charged with his axe raised, not giving a damn whether the trees approved or not.

"You lie! The forest would never attack Legolas. What have you done to him? Where is he?"

Not waiting for the axe to find his head, the man started to run back the way he came. He was fast, but not fast enough that Gimli would not be able to catch up.

'He must have exhausted himself running to me!' thought Gimli. With a triumphant smile, he raced toward the retreating Harad with a mind to pummel information out of him. The man stopped to turn around every few seconds and hurried on when he saw that Gimli, who was shouting threats and taunts at him, was still on his tail.

Then he suddenly disappeared.

Gimli skid to a stop and angrily turned this way and that in search of his target. He was so preoccupied with looking up that he failed to immediately see the green and gold heap in the grass a few feet from where he was. Squinting, he gasped out loud when he recognized it.

"Legolas!"

All but dropping his axe, Gimli scrambled over to his friend and crouched down to cradle him in his arms. Legolas's eyes were drooping and unfocused, but he did not seem to be sleeping. He was breathing, but very slowly. Gimli lifted the limp arm to feel for a pulse and found that it was weak. He took in the rough bandaging around the Elf's hips and right thigh, which were spotted with red blotches. Gimli scrunched up his face in confusion: Was it true that Legolas was attacked by a tree? Legolas's drowsy eyes rolled in their sockets to land on Gimli's worried face. At first they seemed to look through Gimli, but then they widened a fraction, revealing his constricted pupils. His lips trembled as if struggling to get air out. Gimli delicately put his fingers on Legolas's mouth.

"Do not talk, my friend. I do not know what happened to you, but we had better get these injuries taken care of. Let us find Treebeard," he said.

"No-" Legolas wheezed. "Don't…."

Gimli shook his head and slung Legolas's arms over his shoulders so the Elf was draped over his back like a cape. He was as light as one too. Legolas's legs grazed the floor, but Gimli could not think of a better way to carry his friend.

"Gmli…Gim..li…." he slurred. But Gimli shushed him and focused on dragging the near-unconscious Elf to a safer area. Legolas swallowed heavily and squeezed out one word into his ear:

"Trap…."

"What?"

Before Legolas could elaborate however, a strong voice announced, "Welcome, Stout Sir."

Gimli took a deep breath when he saw five men appear from behind the surrounding trees and slowly encompass him and Legolas – whose consciousness had drifted off by now. Gimli hugged his friend's arms with one arm and pointed his axe at the men with the other. Among them was the young archer he had chased.

"What have you done to him?" he growled at Tyr.

One of the men stepped forward, almost shielding Tyr from Gimli. The way he held himself in front of the others indicated to Gimli that he was the leader. He did not seem the least bit intimidated by the Dwarf, and he was not even armed. In fact, none of the men were. Nonetheless, Gimli did not lower his own weapon.

"You misunderstand," the man said coolly. "We did not do this to him."

"Oh? Am I to believe the _trees_ actually harmed the Elf?" spat Gimli.

Haashim chuckled darkly. "No, the trees did not hurt Master Legolas. They did."

Gimli turned to where Haashim nodded and cursed as he saw the same Orcs he had fought just a few hours ago creeping up behind him; though, he felt a strange satisfaction in seeing that only two had survived. The whole situation was absolutely confusing. What did these men have to do with Legolas, and where did the Orcs come into all this? Even more perplexing was what they needed him for. The archer boy had lured him here using Legolas as bait. If they had wanted to kill Legolas, they would have done so right away. Was Gimli their target? Why? None of this made sense.

Behind him, the Orcs crept forward with painful anticipation; in front of him, the men blocked any means of escape.

"Oh for the love of..." Gimli murmured. He quickly scanned the five men and saw that one of them was clutching a bandaged arm. Gimli smirked – an opening! A heavy Orkish stomp from behind spurred him straight at the injured man, who took a surprised step back. Despite Gimli's short legs, he plowed through the wall of men easily enough due to Jibran's vulnerability (his swinging axe helped quite a bit). It was too simple! This band of bumbling wild folk have underestimated him just because he was a Dwarf.

As he passed by a particularly large tree, however, something heavy fell on top of him and slammed him and Legolas to the ground. Legolas helplessly rolled across the grass while Gimli scrambled to grab his weapon. He found it the same time an armored foot found his fingers. He howled like an injured bear as the foot ground his hand into the dirt. He thought he heard a bone crack somewhere. The thin cackling of an Orc could be heard above him. A small thought in the back of Gimli's mind scolded him for forgetting about that last Orc.

"Where do you think yer goin'?"

Gimli gave another surprised yelp as the Orc jammed an arrow into his constrained arm. The Orc's honking mixed with Gimli's pained screams until he finally pulled it back out and stepped off of him. Arms free once more, Gimli clutched his mangled right arm and desperately tried to staunch the bleeding. His middle and fourth fingers were starting to swell.

"Yagrad! There was no need for that. He just needs to drink it," Haashim spoke warningly.

"It's faster to put it in his bloodstream," Yagrad retorted. "But I'll make him drink it too if you insist."

Haashim ignored the mockery and beckoned for the men as he walked over to where Legolas was haphazardly dumped on the floor. He scowled when he saw that he was out cold – the Orcs have given him too much. He would have to entrust the task to only his men from now on. He did not want Legolas to be dead by the time they arrive.

Gimli looked from the Orc to the men to Legolas, becoming wildly confused with each second. Drink what?

Seeing that the Orc seemed no longer interested in him, Gimli grabbed his axe with his good arm and tried to stand up, only to stumble ungraciously back down. The world swayed and tilted as he tried desperately to maintain his precarious balance. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Yagrad playfully twirling the arrow he had stuck into Gimli.

"It is a drug widely used in Harad, normally for medical purposes," Haashim answered Gimli's perplexed look. "Used adequately, it puts the mind at peace and helps to forget pain; used in excess, and, well, look at your friend over here."

And look he did. Legolas's eyes were half open once more. He seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness. The very sight of his abused friend made Gimli tremble with fury so much that it seemed to burn away the drug inside his body as well. Eyes burning with vengeance, the Dwarf charged blindly at the men with a battle cry fierce enough to make his kin proud. But it was short lived as another arrow found its mark in Gimli's right calf. His legs gave way and sent him tumbling uselessly. The forest was now wildly spinning as the arrow pumped in more drugs into his system. With another growl he crawled toward Legolas, all the while trapping Haashim in his glare. Ironically, he was glad for the drugs because they were indeed numbing the pain of the arrow as he forced his muscles to move. The Orc behind him must have notched another arrow, for the man quickly raised a hand. Gimli knew the man was waiting for him to weaken on his own; the Dwarf knew this was not a battle he could win. But he continued to laboriously drag himself closer to his friend until, finally, the drug's influence reached his arms and they abandoned him. The last thing Gimli saw was Legolas's sad, blue orbs peeking out to meet his dark, drowsy ones.

* * *

Legolas remembered being sick. Then he remembered falling, being dragged back up. After that, nothing. Then walking. Or maybe that was someone else walking, he couldn't tell. He couldn't think coherent thoughts. If someone were to tell him to fly like a bird, he probably would have tried despite the absurdity of the order. He bumped into something thick. A tree? A man. No, an Orc. He fell again.

* * *

Sometime in the middle of the night, Legolas woke to someone prodding him in the back. The moment he opened his eyes though, a sudden pain exploded in his head, wrenching a sharp grunt from him as if he had been punched in the stomach. His entire skeleton ached and throbbed, and his stomach swam violently. He weakly rolled over and wretched, but nothing came out except saliva. Shuddering with the effort, he dropped his head back onto the ground and listened to his own raspy panting. When his breathing slowed at last, the tap on his back came again accompanied with a whisper this time.

"Legolas. Are you still awake, lad?"

"…Gimli?"

He frowned as he rolled his sluggish brain to recall where he was, and groaned as snippets of his memories came flooding back.

"Don't turn around," Gimli whispered hastily as he put his hands on Legolas's back. "Do not let them see you awake."

"Why are you here? What happened?" Legolas whispered back. He was starting to interpret the stimuli around him one by one: his hands were tied in front of him as well as his legs. Gimli seemed to be lying behind him in a similar predicament, hidden from the view of the men in front of Legolas. The men were just far enough that the light of the campfire did not reach the two. The group stood between them and the Orcs, who were grunting and growling amongst each other. Their weapons lay with the men's.

"I… they lured me in using you as bait. I was foolish, Legolas. I was too blind to the obvious."

"That makes two of us, my friend," Legolas sighed.

The two friends stayed silent until Gimli asked the question that had been on his mind.

"What do you think they want with us?" he asked.

"They plan to sell us," Legolas hissed. "In harad."

Gimli's lips went dry as the silent words struck him. Harad! Gondor had been the furthest he had ever been away from his home, so he would be going beyond the borders of what he had considered his world. And how dare these men even think to try and sell them as if they were some merchant's goods.

A soft thud from behind him interrupted his thoughts and cut his conversation with Legolas. The sound of boots treading on grass came closer and closer, and Gimli glanced up to find Tyr looking down at him. The young archer maintained only brief eye contact before continuing on towards his leader. When he reached him, all the men simultaneously turned around as if following a script to where Legolas and Gimli lay – no longer feigning sleep. Haashim stood and gestured for Tyr to follow. Legolas made a weak attempt to sit up, but could not get past his elbows. He cursed himself for recoiling when Haashim reached out to touch him, and was mildly surprised when the man simply prompted him up against a nearby tree. Next to him, Tyr was doing something similar to Gimli. Nonetheless, the Elf still shot Haashim a loathsome glare and shrugged his hand off. Haashim ignored the glare and handed Legolas a small piece of what looked like dried meat. Legolas sat patiently and indifferently with his bound hands on his lap.

"Eat, Master Legolas," said Haashim. It was neither a threat nor an order. It almost sounded as if Haashim was offering it out of genuine concern for his hunger. The hypocrisy sickened Legolas to the core. When he continued to ignore the man's presence altogether, Haashim's expression hardened, his lips tightening once more.

"You will only make it harder for yourself if you act so childishly. Trust me when I say that you will need to eat if you wish to have enough strength for the journey."

"Save it for yourself. It will be a while before we are out of these woods now that you are lost once more," replied Legolas none-too-gently.

If the words struck Haashim, he did not show it. Instead, he let out a soft sigh and delicately put the jerky on Legolas's leg.

"If you will not eat now, then save it for later. You will thank me for it." He gave Gimli a piece and retreated, but not before ordering Tyr to give them some water.

Gimli took his jerky and turned it this way and that.

"What do you think this is made of?" he asked.

Legolas could not hold back his snort.

"Dear Gimli, you have the worst of timings," he chuckled.

"Well, I am quite hungry – and thirsty."

"You can have mine if you want. I can get by."

"No, save yours. What he said, that man-"

"Haashim."

"-Haashim, is right. You will need your strength." Gimli took a bite out of his jerky and chewed experimentally before continuing, "But not for the journey to Harad. We are not going there."

Legolas smiled slyly at his friend.

"You are right – we are not going there," he repeated. He said no more for Tyr had arrived with their water. He had two cups in his hands and handed one to each of them. Gimli took it without question and washed the jerky down. Legolas, on the other hand, drummed his fingers on the cup and watched the water tremble under his touch. Truth be told, his throat was severely parched and he nearly ached for some water. Seeing the cool liquid slosh around in the tiny cup was painfully alluring. With a resigned sigh he sipped the water first to make sure it tasted fine, then downed the rest of it when it tasted as sweet as honey. He almost gave a content sigh – almost. Tyr stayed to watch that they drank it all before collecting their cups and leaving.

Almost immediately, Legolas felt a rush of satisfaction and relief flood through his veins. He felt comfortable and relaxed; all the aches, pains, and misery were becoming numb. He knew he ought to be surprised and rather suspicious at how powerful a cup of water could be, but he felt too happy to care. Next to him, Gimli was gazing at him with a far-off look.

"Something feels funny," he mumbled. "I feel so light."

"Me too…" Legolas frowned at how slurred he and Gimli were starting to sound. Even his wounds were bothering him less.

"Strange…" Gimli murmured, blinking heavier with each passing second.

There was something on the tip of his tongue, but Legolas could not quite get coherent thoughts to form. He recognized an inkling of frustration hidden somewhere in his foggy mind as his brain slowly shut down. This was just like when the Orcs force-fed him some kind of mixture that had rendered him completely vague and helpless. His uncooperative brain just barely made the connection and he gasped out one word before he blanked out altogether.

"Water…"

* * *

The Orcs and men were quarreling when Gimli finally got his senses together. The drugs did not make him pass out per se, but rather made him act like a Dwarf that had had one too many drinks. He would trip over his own feet, sway, giggle at times, and not think straight. He had been led through the forest by a big man (Bakar, if he remembered correctly) who held a rope connected to his wrists like a dog on a leash. Legolas had been walking – stumbling – in front of him, led by Umar. Once or twice, he had seen his friend vomit. As they stood in place now, Gimli could clearly see the commotion at the very front of the procession where Jibran and Haashim were confronting the Orcs, Mauluk and Gaznag. He jerked his head subtly to clear his head of the remaining drug.

"…go around damaging the trees like that." It was Haashim. "You will wake up the spirits! I swear this forest is swimming in Elvish magic. You claimed to have seen this yourself, Mauluk. Unless you-"

Haashim suddenly cut off and sighed heavily as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders. Mauluk gave a soft snarl. The man weaved his fingers in his hair, twirling and pulling, before he continued in a softer voice.

"Unless we want to lose more men, please make sure yours do not disturb the trees."

He looked specifically at Gaznag as he said this. When he finally turned around to continue on his way, Mauluk cuffed Gaznag not-too-softly on the head, eliciting a frustrated yelp from the smaller Orc. Gaznag wasted no time in complaining.

"Are you listening to this whelp? He's not even half as big as you. What is this? The Mighty Mauluk groveling at a sand rat's feet?"

"Watch it Gaznag," Mauluk whispered dangerously, "If you don't shut yer trap soon I might just let you cut the trees just to watch 'em kill yer sorry skin."

Though Gaznag lowered his gaze at the clear threat, it did not stop his tongue from running off.

"We don't need him, Mauluk. The traitorous rat tried to trick us before, who's to say he can't do it again? See how he only lets his own men touch the prisoners? He might be plotting to run away with them right this minute. But we can't let 'im do that now can we? Look!"

Gimli frowned as he caught Gaznag glancing at him with those beady, black eyes of his. The Orc's lips curled back to reveal filthy, black gums. Mauluk followed his subordinate's gaze without a word.

"We can snag 'em in the dark when they aren't looking. Take it for ourselves. Since when do we share with men?"

Gaznag could see the gears whirring in his leader's head. He grinned to himself – Mauluk had always been so gullible. His grin ripped even wider when Mauluk straightened up.

"Get Yagrad," he ordered. Gaznag practically bounded away like an excited hound.

Since then, Gaznag was getting more and more out of control.

It appeared that Haashim's little warning to Mauluk had flown over his head, for the giant Orc was leaving Gaznag to do as he pleased. The smaller Orc was swinging his blade at every tree he could reach like a cruel guard clanking on prison bars. It was driving Haashim mad. The thin alliance with the Orcs was nerve-wrecking enough, but now he had to be extra alert for any strange tree behaviors too. Pasting on what he hoped resembled a smile, Haashim walked over to where Gaznag was viciously hacking at a particularly knarled tree. As Gaznag worked to dislodge his axe from the tree's roots, however, the tree creaked and groaned, making Haashim freeze in his tracks.

 _"_ _What in the world…!"_ he exclaimed.

As he looked on, the tree continued to twist and shake unnaturally against the wind. Its crooked branches unraveled themselves and stretched high – almost like a man stretching after a good night's sleep. In fact, he could have sworn he just saw two eyes in the rough bark blinking blearily. The tree grew taller and looked at the large group before fixing its eyes on the Orc that had attacked its roots. By now, the entire party had stopped and were gaping at the unbelievable scene before them. The Orcs looked quite unnerved and took several steps away. Gimli blinked and almost cried out in joy as he glued his eyes on the man-like tree standing tall and proud before him.

"An Ent!" he breathed.

Instead of smiling warmly like Treebeard, the Ent's eyes flashed and an incomprehensible grumbling noise issued from deep within it.

 _"_ _Burárum!"_

At this sound, the other surrounding trees started to wake up as well, shaking and tossing their leaves as the first one had done. Soon, the group found themselves encircled by a grove of Ents.

 _"_ _An Ent meeting…"_ Legolas mumbled in Elvish followed by a tiny giggle. _"We have disturbed them…."_

Umar grabbed Legolas's arms and shook him so hard that Gimli became nauseous just by looking at him.

 _"_ _He is casting a spell on the trees! Curse you, curse you! Let us leave him and take only the Dwarf before he kills us all with his Elvish devilry,"_ he cried at Haashim. His eyes, wild with fear, never left the Ents. The other men had already gathered around their leader and seemed to agree with Umar.

 _"_ _No!"_ Haashim shouted back. _"We take them both."_ But he, too, was looking on at the ancient beings with fear and awe.

The Ents had all risen by now and were closing in with malice.

 _"_ _Burárum!"_ The first Ent roared again, cueing the others to strike. The group scattered like ants as the Ents swiped and stomped mercilessly at them. Haashim barely ducked in time as a whip-like branch aimed for his head. The Orcs already had swords in their hands and were swinging them aimlessly, which caused the Ents to rage even more. They roared and lifted their legs – roots – up high before smashing them down as if attempting to squash everyone. The men cried out in fear and ran around blindly.

 _"_ _Haashim!"_ Tyr called, _"A cave!"_

Haashim looked over to where Tyr was frantically waving his arms and pointing at a clear opening in a rock formation.

 _"_ _Go!"_ he shouted at his scout. Then, he called out to the rest of his team. _"Everyone! Follow Tyr!"_

Umar immediately dropped the rope he was holding and sprinted toward the cave with his arms held protectively over his head. Haashim scowled and ran back to where Legolas was on his knees, shaking his head slowly as if to ward off an annoying bug. When the man dug his arms underneath Legolas's armpits to drag him, he found that the Elf was surprisingly light. Without a second thought, he hoisted him up on one shoulder as he would a bag of sand – Legolas was as heavy as the clothing on him. He ran back to the cave with Legolas and shouted for Bakar and Jibran to follow. Bakar copied his leader and lifted a malcontent Gimli up to run. The Orcs caught up on the men's plan and proceeded to flee to the cave as well. The Ents pursued them and continued to swat at them with their lethal limbs. Gaznag, the slowest among the Orcs, risked a glimpse behind him and saw the closest Ent lash out at him. With a squeak, he ducked quickly and ran faster than his short legs could carry him. He caught up to Jibran, who was lagging behind due to his injury, grabbed the man, and threw him behind him just as another branch swung at them. The branch caught the man and sent him catapulting toward a faraway tree. Jibran bounced off the thick trunk and lay unmoving in the dirt in an awkward position.

As Gaznag ran into the cave, the Ents beat against the entrance causing the entire cave to rumble and shake. The men watched in horror as the trees ripped down giant boulders at once. As he realized what they were trying to do, Haashim shouted for everyone to move in deeper. The Ents' beating and banging were bringing down the entire ceiling, showering them all with rocks the size of a man's head. It was every man for himself as they tried to clamber over the debris to get to a safer area. The light from the entrance became cut in half, then only a quarter remained, until it was cut off altogether with a final bang, sealing them in complete darkness.


End file.
